


A Long and Winding Road

by clgfanfic



Category: Soldier of Fortune Inc.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny Ray and Margo have a talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long and Winding Road

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Ouch! #11 and later in Watch Your Six #4 with Mary Fallon Zane.

Matthew Shepherd watched as his friend and co-worker Benny Ray Riddle finished sanding a section of molding, then handed it to him.  Matt began applying varnish.

Looking up at the man, Shepherd smiled and said, "I think this is going to look nice, don't you?"

The sniper nodded.  "The old place is really shapin' up, sir," he agreed, glancing around the suite.  "You gonna start on the first floor next?"

Matt nodded.  "I've been thinking, that space could be converted into a bar pretty easily.  But I'm not sure I really want to try running a bar while we're still taking jobs from Trout… still, it might make the downtime pass a little quicker."

"That it would," Benny Ray agreed, nodding.

The Silver Star had once belonged to Matt's uncle, a Korean and Vietnam War veteran, who'd owned and operated the small but stately hotel for almost twenty years after he left active duty.  The hotel had catered to an upscale clientele with a few large suites on the second and third floors, a French restaurant on the first floor, and a pub in the basement that was also popular with the locals.  Sitting just off the sand at Hermosa Beach, the Silver Star had offered an ocean-side retreat of the highest quality until the death of Matt's uncle almost eight years earlier.  But over the past nine months Matt had been able to bring back some of the luster to the inside of the hotel by repairing and remodeling the five suites on the second floor for use by each member of his small specops team.  However, only two of those suites were getting any real use – his and Benny Ray's.

Just after Thanksgiving the sniper's wife had decided she wanted a separation.  He had agreed reluctantly, packed his duffle bag, tossed it into the back of his truck and driven straight to the Silver Star.

When the ex-major heard what was happening he'd immediately offered the sniper the use of one of the suites full-time.  He'd accepted, and offered to pay.  Matt suggested a trade instead, the use of the suite in exchange for some help with the renovations.  Benny Ray agreed, hoping that he could work things out with his wife, but just after Christmas she told him she had filed for a divorce.

That had been five months ago.  Matt tried to ignore the man as he glanced at his watch, then sighed softly.  He really didn't want to stick his nose into something Benny Ray didn't want him involved in.  After all, it really wasn't any of his business, but he couldn't.  The sniper was his friend.

"Hey, you okay?" Matt asked.

Benny Ray nodded.  "Yeah."

Shepherd set the molding aside to dry, then wiped his hands on an old paint-stained rag.  "You want to talk about it?"

Matt watched the sniper consider the offer, but he obviously didn't know what to say.  Benny Ray shook his head.  "Just need to make sure I'm not late," he said.

Matt nodded.  He knew about Benny Ray's appointment with the lawyer.  And he knew it was going to be a painful moment, but there was nothing he could do if the man didn't ask.  "Want some company?"

Benny Ray flashed him a smile.  "Naw, it's just dottin' the T's and crossin' the I's."

Shepherd grinned.  "Something like that, anyway.  When do you need to leave?"

"One, I guess.  If I don't wanna be late.  Traffic on the 405 has been a bitch."

Matt nodded.  "Want to grab some lunch, then?  We should have time if we go to the café down the street."

The sniper shook his head.  "No.  Thanks.  Not hungry."

And he hadn't eaten breakfast either, Shepherd knew.  He sighed to himself.  What was the woman's problem anyway?  It wasn't like she wasn't used to having Benny Ray gone on missions.  He was just on new missions.  But it wasn't his place to judge.  "Okay," he replied.  "What do you say we finish hanging that wallpaper in Margo's suite, then?"

"Sure," the sniper agreed in his usual taciturn manner, but he looked grateful to have something to do to pass the time.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          By 2:30 that afternoon Benny Ray was sitting in his lawyer's tenth-floor office, waiting, he was told, for the man to finish with another client.  He fidgeted, glancing around the large office.  Wooden bookcases were filled with leather-bound books and a few historical nautical knickknacks, the man's cherrywood desk, which took up a good portion of the space, was neat and orderly, the blotter, pen cup and clock all expensive.  Divorce obviously paid well.  But it was the framed picture of a pretty young woman and two small children that held his attention.  It looked like the man had a happy family.

          The sniper was about to stand and check out the view from the large window behind the desk when the door opened and Andrew Nelson Quinn III stepped into the office and shut the door behind him.  "I'm sorry I'm late.  I fell a little behind this morning and I haven't been able to catch up.  Have you been waiting long?"

          "No, not long.  No problem," Benny Ray said, standing to shake the man's hand.

          Quinn moved to his desk and sat down.  He picked up the phone, saying, "Hi, Nancy, could you please bring in the Riddle papers?  Thanks."  He hung up and said to Benny Ray, "I looked your papers over, and it appears we were granted everything we asked for."  He paused when the door opened and an attractive forty-something black woman stepped inside and handed him a file.  "Thank you, Nancy."

          "You're welcome," she replied.  "And Mr. Armstrong called, he'll be about a half-hour late."

          "Ah, thank you," Quinn replied.  "Why don't you see if I can get in to see Jeff while I'm waiting."

          She nodded and left.

          Quinn opened the file on his desk and quickly skimmed the pages.  "Yes, it's all ready to go, you're all set…"  He looked up.  "I have to say, the visitation arrangements are extremely generous.  You and Mary Ellen have certainly put your children first.  That's very commendable."

          "We're still friends," the sniper explained simply.  "We love our kids."

          Quinn's eyes rounded slightly.  "Well, that certainly doesn't happen often.  You're a lucky man."

          Benny Ray snorted softly.  "Don't feel lucky."

          The lawyer nodded, looking a little uncomfortable.  He turned the folder around.  "Fine, well, all you have to do is sign here…"  He indicated a line, then pointed to another line.  "And here."

          The sniper accepted a gold-plated pen and quickly scrawled his signature, twice, before he had time to reconsider.  Not that he had any recourse.  Once she started the ball rolling, it was out of his control, no matter what he wanted.

          "We'll send these back to your wife's lawyer and he'll send you a final copy.  You should have everything within a week or two."  He paused, studying the man.  "Doing okay?"

          "Yep," Benny Ray said, standing.  He offered his hand and Quinn shook it.

          "Let me know if I can be of any further help," the lawyer offered.

          "Will do," Benny Ray replied, heading for the door.  All he wanted to do was escape the plush office before he got sick to his stomach.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Benny Ray downed the last of his fifth tequila, then the beer chaser.  He signaled the bartender that he wanted another round.  The older man frowned, but he drew another draft, poured another shot, then set both in front of the sniper, taking the empty glasses away.

          Staring into the beer, Benny Ray sighed heavily.  _I really should've seen this comin'_ , he thought.  He and Mary Ellen had been slowly growing apart ever since they got married.  Hell, they were just kids themselves when they'd tied the knot – eighteen, and full of dreams.  But most of those dreams went on hold when Ben was born thirteen months into their marriage, and then the training and the missions started, taking him away from home again and again…

          He shook his head and downed the tequila in a single gulp, then took a long swallow of the beer.  He was a good soldier, a good Marine, and a good sniper.  And, when he really thought about it, he even thought he was a pretty good dad when he got the chance, but that was the problem – he never got much of a chance to work at being a dad.  And he sure as hell wouldn't be getting more chances now.

But that meant that Mary Ellen had had to be both mother and father to the kids.  But she never complained…   _Well, not much_ , he corrected himself.  She just did what had to be done, like he would have, if he'd been home and she'd been the one working.

          School, that's what created the real difference between them, he knew.  After a couple of years home alone with a small child Mary Ellen had gotten bored, and he really couldn't blame her.  He couldn't imagine staying home all day, every day, taking care of the kids, cleaning, doing the shopping… whatever else she did.  He'd go nuts.  And she had obviously felt the same.  So she went back to school and got herself an Associates degree, and then a Bachelor's degree, and then a Master's degree.  And now she was on her way to a Doctorate degree.  They didn't speak the same language any more.

          Another long gulp and the beer glass was almost empty.  Anger churned in his guts.  He couldn't blame it all on her education, or the time he spent away.  He wished he could, but he couldn't.  When it came right down to it, bottom line, she just didn't understand.  She had no idea what he did, or who he was – none whatsoever.

The worst thing that had ever happened to him was getting booted out of the Marine Corps, but she was happy about it.  For her it meant he would be home more, sharing the chores and the responsibilities for the kids, spending more time with her.  He could drive the kids where they needed to go some of the time.  He could take them shopping, or her out to supper.  And he wouldn't be putting his life on the line any more.  She could finally stop waiting for the knock on the door.

          He understood that.  He even appreciated her position.  But by God he just wasn't cut out to spend his life teaching green recruits at the LA Police Academy how to shoot a paper target.  He was an operator.  A damned good operator.  But she couldn't understand that, and he sure as hell couldn't tell her exactly what it was he did.  How could he?  How could he tell the woman he loved that he spent his time getting better and better at killing people?  How was he supposed to tell the mother of his children that he knew more ways to kill another human being than there were letters in the alphabet?  And that he was good at each and every one of them.

She wasn't ready to hear any of that.  And she was tired of waiting for him to be a real part of their lives.  The men she knew at the university were all more interesting, more reliable, more… normal.

          He finished his drink and gestured for another round.  The bartender gave it to him, saying, "Last one, Mister."

          Benny Ray grunted in reply and downed the tequila in one swallow, then half the glass of beer in another.  At least he knew that she hadn't slept with any of those damned eggheads at the college – wasn't her style – but in all the ways that really mattered she _had_ cheated on him.  She'd made a life for herself where she didn't need him.  She'd educated herself far beyond anything he could ever hope to match.  She'd just grown past him – way past him.  That wasn't fair.  How was he supposed to keep up?  How was he supposed to know what kind of husband she wanted now?

          He finished the beer and held up his glass.  "Hey, bartender, fill 'er up."

The older man walked over.  "Nope," he said.  "I think you've had enough."

          "Like hell," the sniper growled, staring at the man.

          "Look, why don't you let me call you a cab?" the man asked, reaching out to hold on lightly to Benny Ray's arm.

          "Let go of me," the sniper snapped, jerking his arm away and sliding off his stool.  He stomped to the door and kicked it open, storming out.

          Crossing the parking lot, he climbed into his Ram.  Fishing out his keys, he started the engine and pulled out into traffic, almost hitting a taxi that swerved into the adjoining lane to avoid him.  The driver's horn blared, and the sniper growled, "What's your damned problem?"

          He turned on the radio, cranking the volume up so he could sing along with the Oak Ridge Boys.  Memories still crowded in on him, images of better days.

          A few minutes later, lost in a song and his own anger, he barreled through a red light, almost clipping a small Toyota.  "Jesus!" he snapped.

          Spotting a Safeway, he pulled into the lot and parked.  Sitting in the cab he turned off the engine and waited until he caught his breath.  He was drunk.

          Knowing he could end up killing himself, or someone else, if he tried tackling the freeway in his current condition, he climbed out of the Ram and slammed the door shut.  He glanced around.  He wasn't exactly sure where he was, but he knew he needed to move – walk, run, something, as long as he was moving, going somewhere before all the memories returned, overwhelming him.

          Shoving his keys into his pocket, he started walking.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Damn," he mumbled, glancing around.  When had it gotten dark?

He checked his watch.  He'd been walking over an hour, but he still felt lightheaded and his thoughts were still scattered and morose.  How much had he drunk anyway?  He sighed.  _Must've been a helluva lot_.  He watched his feet for a moment – no, he was definitely not plumbing a straight line.

He giggled softly.  _Oh yeah, definitely drunk.  Bombed_.

Glancing around, he noted absently that he wasn't in what he'd call a "nice" neighborhood.  Not that he cared.  He was armed, as always, and more than able to take care of himself…  If he could figure out which damned hand was which.

He giggled again.  _Oh man_ , he thought, he was going to pay for this one tomorrow.  He hadn't been this drunk since his days with the SEALs.

"Hey, get a'load of this," he heard someone say.

Benny Ray didn't bother looking up.  He was still trying to walk a straight line, following the crack that ran down the middle of the sidewalk.  It was easier than thinking about Mary Ellen getting re-married and taking his kids away.  She had already told him she'd met someone she wanted to get to know better, a man she thought would make a good father to the kids…

"Hey, flat-top," someone else called.  "You deaf, man?"

She was falling in love again… and it sounded like he liked the kids and they seemed to like him, too…

"Hey, buzz-brain, we're taking to you!"

Benny Ray looked up.  Someone was holding onto his arm.

The young man grinned.  "Oh, man, this guy is wasted!"

"He got a wallet?" someone else asked.

Benny Ray glanced to his right.  Two more of them – white, male, and young.  Teenagers maybe.  No way they were over twenty-one.

"Get the wallet."

He glanced to the left.  One more.  Four total.  The sniper grinned, the expression reminiscent of a feral dog's snarl.  _Oh, yeah_ , he thought, _bring it on_.

The teen standing in front of Benny Ray grabbed the sniper's leather jacket and pushed him up against the side of a building.  "You get his wallet," the boy said.  "I want this."

For Benny Ray, the world quickly dissolved into a chaotic jumble of movement, light and pain.  One of the boys hit him with something, that much he was sure of, then rational thought deserted him.  He fought back, the feel of flesh and bone giving way under his hands more satisfying than usual, and the cries of agony brought a smile to his bloody lips.

He gasped when he, or someone else, rubbed his face along the rough surface of a wall, or was it the street?  A sour odor assailed his nostrils.  Had he thrown up?  He wasn't sure.  He moved away from the smell… crawling, he realized.

His hands groped in the darkness, his fingers scraping along something solid and he pulled himself up.  The boys were gone, or lost in the shadows.

He grinned again.  "Damn," he breathed.  "That all ya got?"

He turned and continued walking.

Almost an hour later, Benny Ray stopped, looking down a short walkway to the townhouses beyond.  Large tropical-looking plants grew along the path leading to the buildings.  He sure as hell didn't look like he belonged here, not in his present condition.  He hesitated, pacing off several steps, then turned back and stalked up to the door of the second from the right and knocked before he really thought about what he was doing.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Margo Vincent sat curled up at one end of her couch, a half-empty bowl of popcorn in her lap.  Dressed in loose sweats and a baggy T-shirt, her hair up in a ponytail, she was definitely not expecting visitors, so when the soft knock sounded at her door, she almost didn't answer it.  But she couldn't ignore the sound, especially now that she was working with Matt.

          So, leaning forward, she set the bowl on her coffee table, then crossed to the door.  Picking up the small Glock sitting on the table next to the door, she unlocked the two deadbolts and opened the door as far as the security chain would allow.

          "Ohmygod," she yelped, her eyes going wide.

          She immediately shut the door, set the gun down, removed the chain, and then opened the door again.  "Benny Ray?" she questioned, her gaze darting around the landscaped courtyard, looking for tangos.

"Evenin'," he slurred.

At the sound of his voice, she carefully reached out to take hold of his arm, guiding him inside her home.  She shut the door, turned the locks, and replaced the chain.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to see if the sniper was injured.  Given his disheveled appearance, sour odor, the dirt smudged across his face, arms, and clothes, and the two large raw scrapes, one on his arm and one on his face, she expected to find at least one gunshot wound.

          The sniper thought for moment, then said, "Ain't sure."

          "Is Matt okay?  Where are Chance and C.J.?"

          He looked at her, his expression making it clear her questions were incomprehensible.

          "Benny Ray, did something happen at the Silver Star?"

          He shook his head.  "Don't think so."

          Her eyebrows arched.  "Okay," she said, then tugged his arm gently to get him moving.  "Come with me."

          "Where we goin'?"

          "In here," she said, leading him through her bedroom and into the large attached bathroom.  "Can you sit on the counter?"

          He looked at the clean marble surface and nodded, wondering how he might accomplish it.

          Margo waited a moment, then, when it was obvious he was just going to stand there staring at her sink, she turned him around and backed him up against the counter.  He hopped up, gratitude clear in his eyes.

"Thanks."

In the closed space of the bathroom the reason for Benny Ray's confusion became more obvious.  "No problem," she said.  "Have you… been drinking?"

"Yes, ma'am," Benny Ray replied matter-of-factly, slapping his leg.

"A lot from the looks of it," she added.

He grinned, looking proud of himself.  "Yes, ma'am, that is true."

"What happened, a brawl?" she asked, pulling out a first aid kit.  "Let me guess, someone pulled the plug on the jukebox while Shania was singing?"

"Good reason," he agreed.

The sniper jerked and yelped when she started to clean the scrape on his arm.  _Damn, that hurts!_   But where had it come from, he wondered.  And where was his jacket?

Then he remembered.  "Oh, shit," he breathed, then gritted his teeth as she continued to clean his arm.

"What?" she asked, wondering if she should call Matt.  Why the hell had Benny Ray come to her house?  Why was he drinking?  No, she corrected herself.  Why was he drunk?

"Ow," he groaned.  "That's gotta be good enough…  They stole my jacket."

"Who?" Margo asked, deciding to forego wrapping the scrape.  She was going to have to get him into the shower when she was done.  Closer proximity suggested that he might have fallen into some garbage.

"Kids," he said finally.  "Four of 'em… think it was four.  Tried to take my wallet," he said, reaching back to check.  It was still there.  "Took my jacket."

"They took your jacket," she repeated slowly.  "While you were wearing it?"

"Yep," he said.  "Scrappy bunch.  One of 'em hit me with something."

She paused before she started to work on the abrasion decorating his cheek.  "What did you do?"

He paused for a moment, clearly trying to remember, then shrugged.  "Still got my wallet."

Margo shook her head; that was what had her worried.  "Hold still."

"That hurts," he argued, jerking away.

She stopped, trying to look stern while she fought back a smile.  It was like working with a six-year-old.  "It just stings a little.  I'm sure you can handle it."

He blinked owlishly at her, looking confused.  Then he nodded.  "I can take it…  I can take any damned thing she throws my way."

Margo noted the slip, but continued to clean the wound.  When she was done, she tossed the pads in the trash, then nodded at the shower stall.  "Why don't you get cleaned up, then I'll cover those scrapes."

He nodded, his expression turning closed and haunted.  Whatever had upset him, it was working its way to the surface, and Margo wasn't at all certain she was ready to handle it when it got there.  The shower should give her a little time to prepare.

Benny Ray slid off the counter, his knees buckling halfway.  She caught him by the arm.  "Whoa, easy there," she cautioned.

"I'm fine," he said, standing straight and taking a half-step away.

"There's some clean towels in there," she said, gesturing to a closed door.

Benny Ray nodded, then took a step toward the shower.  He stopped, looking down at his soiled clothes, then back up at Margo.  "I, uh…"

"I'll find some clothes you can borrow," she assured him.  "Go on."

When he started to pull off his torn tee-shirt, she left him, closing the door behind her.  A few moments later she heard the water running.

Without hesitation she crossed her bedroom and picked up the phone on her nightstand.  The call was picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Matt?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's me," was the reply.  "Something wrong?"

"Listen, I, uh, need to ask you something."

"Shoot," was his reply.

"It's about Benny Ray."

"What about him?"

"He's here."

"There?"

"Yeah, and he's— Well, he's drunk, and—"

"Drunk?  Benny Ray?  Benny Ray doesn't get drunk."

She dropped her voice, just in case and continued.  "Yeah, well, he is, believe me.  And I think he was in a fight, too.  You might want to check, make sure no bodies have turned up tonight."

"Christ, Margo, you think he—?"

"I don't know, that's why I called.  He said four kids stole his jacket and tried to take his wallet, but he still has the wallet, so…"

"I'll look into it," he assured.  "Are you okay?  Is he—?"

"I'm fine.  He's not upset.  Well, he's not mad, but he is upset about something."

"Oh, Christ," Matt breathed.

"What?"

"I should've guessed something like this might happen."

"What?" she repeated, knowing she didn't have too much time.

"Benny Ray met with his lawyer this afternoon – to sign his final divorce papers."

The pieces clicked into place for Margo and she glanced at the closed door to the bathroom.  The shower was still running.  "I guess he took it pretty hard."

"You want me to come over?"

She thought for a moment, then said, "No.  That's okay.  I can handle it."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Why'd he come to your place?"

"I don't know," she admitted.  "But he walked."

"Walked?  From where?  Did the kids steal the Ram, too?"

"I don't think so.  Look, Matt, I have to go.  He's in the shower and I have to find something he can wear.  I'll call if I need any help."

"You do that," Matt said.  "Is he okay?"

"Just a couple of nasty scrapes.  Bye."

"Yeah, good night," Matt said.

Margo hung up, then hurried outside and over to a neighbor's.  A few minutes later she was back with socks, sweats and a tee-shirt she thought should fit Benny Ray.  The shower was off, although the door was still closed.

She knocked and said, "I've got some clothes for you."

The door opened just far enough for the sniper to stick his hand out.  She grinned at his modesty, then pressed the clothes into his palm and watched as he pulled them back inside the steam-filled room and closed the door.

"When you're dressed, call me.  I'll come put bandages over those scrapes.  Then you can come out to the living room," she said.  "I'll make us some coffee."

"Yes, ma'am," was the tired reply.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Fifteen minutes later Benny Ray was seated on Margo's couch, a cup  of coffee cradled in his hands, his three weapons on her coffee table.  His clothes were in her washer, and the wounds on his arm and cheek were covered by gauze pads.  He glanced across at Margo, saying, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied.  Sitting in her recliner, she studied the man.  He had cleaned up well, the scrapes looking better than she had first expected.  He might be sore in the morning, and he was definitely going to have a hangover, but other than that, he would be fine.

The sniper looked down at the clothes.  "Guess I shouldn't ask about these…"

Margo grinned.  "I borrowed them from a neighbor.  Her husband's a fireman."

"Guess he ain't around much, then," he said softly, staring into his cup.

The drunk was wearing off, leaving the sniper sullen and withdrawn, but he was still more chatty than usual.  She decided she'd better try to get him talking before he sobered up enough to fight her.  "You want to tell me what happened?"

He didn't look at her, but he took a sip of the coffee and said, "Ain't much to tell…"  He trailed off.  When she didn't respond, he sighed and muttered, "Signed my papers today."

"The divorce?" she asked, even though she knew the answer.

He nodded, then took another sip of the coffee.  "Guess it hit me harder than I thought it would," he admitted, although he spoke to his cup.

"Understandable," Margo said, her tone honest.  She leaned forward, curious.  She hadn't thought the sniper would take the separation this hard, but then she didn't really know that much about the man.  "Were you two married a long time?"

He nodded.  "Twelve years."

Her eyes rounded and she quickly did the math.  He couldn't be much more than thirty.  "High school sweethearts?" she guessed.

"Yep."  He leaned back, his expression pained.  "When I left the lawyer's office I found myself a bar… had a few."

"More than a few," Margo teased lightly.

A slight grin lifted the corners of his mouth.  "Too damned much, that's true… bartender cut me off.  Pissed me off.  I took off to find 'nother place, but I damned near got myself killed.  I pulled over in a Safeway parkin' lot, but damned if I know where it is.  Started walkin'… ended up here."

"What about the kids who jumped you?"

Benny Ray ran a hand over his short hair.  "I don't know… they caught me 'bout an hour from here…  I think it was 'bout an hour.  Wanted my leather jacket and my money.  They got the jacket."

"Good thing they didn't find your weapons."

"Yep."

"Did you hurt them?" Margo asked, still concerned about what someone like Benny Ray could do to four untrained boys, especially if he was out of control.

"Not bad… least I don't think so.  Broke some bones."

Margo finished her coffee and set the mug down on one of the magazines sitting on her coffee table.  Then, pushing herself up, she walked over and sat down next to the sniper.  "Why didn't you get a cab?"

He shrugged.  "Don't know."

He wasn't going to open up on his own, she was sure of that, so she took the lead, pushing.  "You didn't want this divorce, did you?"

"Nope," he admitted, his eyes shining.

"Do you love her?"

"Yep," he managed, his voice tight and strained.  "I love the girl I married.  I love the woman who had my babies and took care of 'em… I love the woman who did all that and went back t' college.  She's a fighter.  But—"  He stopped, his voice catching.

"What?" Margo prompted.

"We just ain't the same people we used to be."

Margo reached out and rested her hand on the sniper's arm.  "We all change," she said softly.  "Time has a way of doing that."

"I know," he said.  "Maybe that's the problem… I don't change.  I'm an operator, first and last.  But that ain't good enough for her."

She didn't have a reply for that one.  "Did you talk to her about it?"

"Tried," he sighed.  "Like I told y'all on the way to Sierra Leone, Mary Ellen got it in her head this gig with the Major's gonna get me killed one day… said she didn't want the kids growin' up with no daddy… not that I got much of a chance to be a daddy, being in the Corps… and now I ain't got no chance at all, I guess."

"This is an unforgiving business," Margo admitted. "But she had to be used to you being gone, being in danger.  You were in the Corps for what, twelve years, too?"

Benny Ray  nodded.  Looking down at the empty coffee mug in his hands, he leaned forward and set it next to Margo's.  He fell back again the couch, saying, "It's a lot of things.  Ain't no one reason for it all goin' t' hell."

"So why so upset?" Margo asked, honestly wanting to know.

He was quiet for a long time, then said "My kids," so softly she almost couldn't hear it.

"Your kids?" she asked.  _Surely he got visitation rights_ , she thought.  _His wife can't be that big of a bitch_.

She watched the tears well up in his eyes despite the fact he was fighting them, the muscle running along his jaw jumping from the effort.   He sucked in a deep breath and tried to speak, but he couldn't and shook  his head.

"Benny Ray?"

"Hell, Margo, I just know she's gonna end up takin' 'em away from me.  She's getting' a friggin' Ph.D., and—"

Margo's eyes rounded.  "That's quite an accomplishment," she acknowledged.  "But why does that mean she's going to take your kids away?"

"Jobs," he said emphatically.  "She'll go where the jobs take her and the kids'll go with her.  She'll find somebody – hell, she's already datin' some guy at the university… they'll get a new daddy."  A soft sob escaped his throat.  "I just want a chance to be a decent father, that's all.  But I couldn't live the kind of life she wanted me to.  I just couldn't do it, not even for my kids.  What kind of daddy does that make me?"

"Benny Ray, you can't change who you are.  You shouldn't have to.  I've seen you with your kids; you're a great dad.  They love you.  They never stopped loving you when you were in the Corps, and they won't stop loving you now.  Even if your wife does get married again and moves away from Los Angeles, they're still going to be your kids because they love you, and you love them."

He finally looked up, meeting her gaze.  "But I should've been able to change – for them."

She shook her head.  "It doesn't work that way."  She hesitated, hoping she was saying what he needed to hear.  "Answer me this: if you hadn't joined Matt when he asked, would you have enjoyed what you were doing?"

He hesitated, then shook his head.

"And how long do you think it would've been before you were wishing you didn't have a family, so you weren't stuck in that job?"

His eyes rounded and his breath caught.

"If you'd stayed where you were, you would've lost your family, Benny Ray.  We can't live a lie, no matter how much we'd like to.  You love your kids, _and_ you're doing what you have to do.  When you're with them, it's going to be honest.  That's what's important.  You couldn't change because you couldn't give up being yourself.  And remember, it's you they love.  That's not going to change, not if you stay a part of their lives."

Once the first tear worked it was free, the sniper was unable to hold back the rest.  He leaned forward, covering his face with his hands, and surrendered to the emotions that had been assailing him all day.  To his surprise, Margo wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into her embrace.  He cried, letting her hold him while he did.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

## Several Hours Later

 

          "You sure you'll be all right here?" Margo asked, handing Benny Ray a blanket and a pillow.

          "Yeah, this is fine.  Thanks," he said, not looking up at her as he accepted the bedding.  He laid the pillow at the end of the sofa, then spread the blanket out.

          "Benny Ray?" she said, reaching out to touch his arm.

          He looked up, his cheeks and ears immediately turning red.

          "Good night," she said, not wanting to embarrass him with anything more.

          "Night."

          She left him, heading for the laundry room where she moved his clothes to the dryer, then to her bedroom.  She paused in the doorway to watch as he climbed under the blanket, then reached up and turned off the light.  Turning, she stepped into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.  She wasn't sure what she'd expected when he'd turned up on her doorstep, but it wasn't what she'd seen and heard.  There was much more to Benny Ray Riddle than met the eye.

          She quickly changed into her nightclothes, then slid into bed.  As she was reaching for the light, she paused.  Picking up the phone, she called Matt.  He answered on the first ring.

          "Margo?"

          "Yeah," she said.

          "Everything okay?"

          "I think it will be."

          "I checked – no bodies.  Those kids don't know how lucky they are.  You sure everything's okay?"

          "Yeah."

          "Did you send him back here?"

          "No.  He's on the couch.  I'm going to drive him over to find his truck in the morning."

          "Want to talk about it?"

          She thought for a moment, then replied, "No.  This was… private."

          "Okay," Matt said.  "Thanks."

          "No problem.  It was quite an education."

          "I'll bet," he teased her.

          "I meant that in a good way."

          "I know," he replied, his tone turning serious.  "There's deep water under that calm surface."

          "So I found out."

          "Get some sleep," Matt told her.  "It sounds like you could use it."

          "Yeah.  You, too.  And thanks for waiting up."

"Hey," he said, "it's my job."

          "And you do it so well."

          "Yeah, well, I try."

          "Good night, Matt.

          "Good night," he said, then hung up.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

## The Following Morning

 

          Margo glanced at Benny Ray, who was seated across the booth from her, concentrating on his breakfast.  His rosy cheeks and bright red ears told her the real story – he was still embarrassed about last night.

          "How's your head?" she asked softly.

          He paused, glancing up, then gave her a half-shrug.  "I'll live."

          "But you probably won't enjoy it for a few more hours," she added.

          "You'd think the damned pills would finally kick in," he complained.

          "Take some more after you eat."

          He nodded carefully.  The coffee seemed to be helping as much as anything.

          Silence fell between the pair again until they were done eating and the waitress had cleared away their plates.  She re-filled their coffee cups, and left the check.  Margo reached for it, but Benny Ray beat her to it.

          "My treat," he explained.  "Least I can do."

          Margo considered arguing, but decided against it.  It would just aggravate his headache.  "Thank you."

          The sniper stared into his coffee cup for a moment, then said, "You were right."

          "Yeah, I like this place, too, it—"

          "No," he interrupted.  "You were right about what you said last night."

          She looked confused.

          "I would've ended up resenting them if I'd stayed at the Police Academy."

          "Police Academy?" she echoed, her surprise honest.  "You were going to be a cop?"

He shook his head.  "I was teachin' the new cadets how t' kill some paper targets."

"Ah, okay."

He sighed heavily.  "I still don't like it, but I guess this was for the best."

"Just don't let the divorce keep you out of your kids' lives."

"I'll try not to," he said, then looked up and offered her a brief smile.  "Thanks."

"You're welcome."  She took a sip of her coffee.  "You mind if I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Why me?  I mean, why didn’t you talk to one of the others?  You know, man to man?"

Benny Ray considered that for a moment, then said, "Well, Chance's place was too damned far – I would've been walkin' all night.  The Silver Star, too.  That left you or C.J., and His Majesty and I don't usually see eye t' eye…"

"And we do?" Margo asked with a smile.

He shrugged again.  "To be honest, I didn't know where I was goin' 'til I got there."

"I don't mind," she assured.  "I was just curious.  You ready?"

"Yep."  Then he grinned at her.  "'Sides, if I was gonna cry on someone's shoulder, yours is a helluva lot better lookin' than C.J.'s."

"Why, thank you," she said with a smile.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

A half-hour later they found the Safeway parking lot.  Before Benny Ray climbed out of the sleek Jag, he asked, "So, what's on your plate today?"

"I have to go pick up a new bookcase.  Well, I have to pay for it and arrange for it to be delivered."

He looked at her.  "Hell, we could put it in the back of the Ram."

She smiled.  "You wouldn't mind?"

"Least I can do," he said.

She frowned.  "Benny Ray, you don't owe me anything."

"I know.  I'd like to help."

"You’re sure?  What about your head?"

"Feelin' almost back to normal," he said.

"Okay, if you're sure.  You could just follow me."

He nodded, then climbed out and crossed to his truck.  Fishing his keys out, he unlocked the door and climbed into the cab.  He started the engine, then gestured for her to lead the way.

Margo pulled back out into traffic, wondering if the sniper's wife would ever really appreciate what she'd given up, and if any of them could ever find someone who accepted them and their work…


End file.
